


Felt

by betsybo



Series: Senses [2]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Episode: s06e02 Legion, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Getting Together, M/M, Smut, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsybo/pseuds/betsybo
Summary: Rimmer and Lister make use of Legion’s hospitality.A sequel of sorts to ‘Touched’ but set some time after, during ‘Legion’ (Series VI, Episode 2). Could kind of be standalone, though.





	Felt

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo much fluff and sweetness, with a little angst in the background but really not much. Plus sex.

Rimmer smoothed his pyjamas down before he left his room, marvelling at the feeling of the fabric. It seemed that Legion, first class madman that he was, didn’t think it worth even locking them in. Lister’s room was right beside his, and he stopped in front of the door, looking at the blurred reflection of himself in its shiny surface.

 

He was sure he’d seen something in Lister’s eyes when they’d touched – when they’d realised they _could_ touch. The events of the psi-moon weren’t that long ago, and Rimmer had had a lot of time to think things over. And he’d thought about them... probably every single day and night since it happened.

 

The attraction wasn’t entirely a revelation to him. He’d known for a while – maybe always known – that something about Lister excited him... When he touched himself, and wanted to seek a stronger, quicker orgasm, his thoughts often went to that round backside, or those full lips. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but, lonely as he’d always been, it was easily blamed on his isolation combined with his close proximity with the man – easily ignored and pushed to the back of his mind.

 

Until Lister had told him he loved him.

 

Rimmer knocked on the door.

 

 _‘Just a sec!’_ called Lister from behind it.

 

A few seconds later, the door slid open, and Lister stood there in just his long johns. He grinned when he saw Rimmer.

 

‘Got all that muck off you, then?’ he said cheekily.

 

Grimacing, Rimmer nodded.

 

‘That’s the first and _last_ time I try Mimosian cuisine,’ he said.

 

‘Same here – can’t be doing with that stuff.’

 

Rimmer could see little beads of moisture in Lister's hair, and tiny rivulets shining along his neck and collarbone, down beneath the stained long johns, which were only buttoned up halfway. His hands and feet were bare. He must have just showered and then quickly pulled the things on to answer the door. Rimmer stopped himself from shaking his head. Lister was always a mess, even when he was clean. He glimpsed some dark chest hair through the opening of the long johns, and swallowed.

 

‘I just wanted to check you’re...’ he began, and then coughed. ‘That operation was kind of on the spot, and we don’t really know how the technology works, so I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead on the floor or something.’

 

Lister shrugged.

 

‘I’m all right,’ he said mildly, observing Rimmer with clear amusement. ‘Not disappointed, are you?’

 

‘No – _no_ ,’ said Rimmer defensively. He looked Lister up and down, his nose wrinkling.

 

‘Those long johns are revolting,’ he said.

 

‘Oh – yeah, I suppose,’ said Lister as he looked down at himself, and Rimmer was shocked to see he looked _embarrassed_. ‘I have washed them – they just won’t go white again.’

 

Rimmer reached out to feel the material of one of the sleeves, and was too late to stop himself before his fingers came into contact with soft cotton. He could tell Lister was being truthful; the fabric didn’t feel greasy or crisp in the bad way. It was warm from Lister’s skin, though, and damp from the shower water.

 

‘You’re not washing them hot enough,’ he said. ‘And you should put a small capful of bleach in with them – mind you, they’re probably a lost cause by now.’

 

‘I know how _you’d_ have them – all starchy and stiff.’ Lister reached up to flick the collar of Rimmer’s pyjamas that Legion had given him. ‘You could cut yourself on these. I want mine to stay soft.’

 

‘Well, do you _really_ have to wear them all the time?’

 

‘I like them,’ said Lister tartly. ‘And it gets cold sometimes.’

 

That, Rimmer couldn’t really argue with. He hadn’t been able to feel the cold for nearly five years, and even now he suspected it wouldn’t bother him. But he knew that since losing _Red Dwarf_ , Lister was often very cold. He chided himself. He’d slipped right back into being nasty, hadn’t he?

 

‘Kryten could easily sort them out for you,’ he mumbled, eyeing a particularly offensive stain down the left side of the long johns’ opening as he rubbed the material between his fingers again.

 

‘But he’ll try and get every last mark out of them, you know what he’s like. I won’t get them back for a month.’

 

‘You should get some new ones. Ask Legion for another pair?’

 

Lister pulled a face.

 

‘I dunno if I want to start asking him for things,’ he said.

 

Rimmer opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He knew what Lister meant. There was something deeply wrong about their situation, particularly with how comfortable it was.

 

‘There’s definitely something off here, right?’ said Lister. ‘It’s all really nice – but it’s still...’

 

‘A prison,’ Rimmer confirmed, nodding.

 

‘Did he call your room a “cell”, too?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘That’s what gets me – he’s not even _pretending_ we aren’t his prisoners.’ Lister gave a big yawn. ‘So why is he bothering – ?’ He faltered, sticking his head out into the corridor to look up and down. ‘Probably shouldn’t talk about it here.’

 

He went to move inside, only to be prevented by the very firm grip Rimmer still had on his sleeve. Rimmer opened his mouth to apologise, but nothing came out, and he didn’t let go of Lister’s long johns.

 

‘For smeg’s sake, let him go and _say_ something!’ Rimmer thought as he stared at the material and Lister’s hand, yet he found his throat too dry, and his body rooted to the spot. Now his plan didn’t seem quite so simple.

 

Lister would push him away. Call him a freak or a pervert. But maybe that would be all right. Legion probably had some hideous experiments planned for them all. At least he’d have tried before he was killed again.

 

But to his surprise, Lister didn’t pull away, or ask him what the smeg he thought he was doing. Instead he moved back towards Rimmer, lending some slack to the material of the long johns.

 

‘Is everything okay?’ asked Lister, suddenly looking worried. ‘As you said – we don’t really know how this tech works.’

 

He placed a hand – the one not being tethered by Rimmer – on Rimmer’s shoulder.

 

‘I-I’m – fine,’ stammered Rimmer, as he registered the weight and warmth of Lister’s touch.

 

‘Come on in. I need to dry me dreads off.’

 

Rimmer finally released Lister as he tugged him into the room, the door sliding shut behind them. He looked around Lister’s cell, taking in the jukebox, the artwork and, to his slight horror, the guitar leaning against a wall. Lister walked away from him over to the double bed, swiping a towel off it and gently running it along his dreadlocks.

 

‘This must be weird for you,’ he said, watching him. ‘After all this time.’

 

‘I’m all right,’ said Rimmer. ‘Just getting used to it, I suppose.’

 

He wanted to touch Lister again – wanted them to touch each other. Hell, at this rate, he would be grateful for just one hug before he returned to his own room.

 

‘Sit down, man,’ said Lister, sitting on the end of the bed and patting the space beside him.

 

Rimmer hesitated, before moving to sit next to him, taking another good look around the room.

 

Lister smiled.

 

‘What’s your cell like, then?’ he asked.

 

‘Oh – you know,’ said Rimmer distractedly. ‘Perfect. How is he _doing_ this?’

 

Lister shrugged, still toweling down his hair.

 

‘Gotta be psychic or something, hasn’t he?’

 

‘I don’t like it.’

 

Lister finished rubbing the ends of his dreads, and chucked the towel across the floor.

 

‘It’ll be okay, man,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll think of something.’

 

Rimmer nodded, and Lister shuffled closer and put an arm around him. Rimmer looked at him, taking in his friendly smile as his own arm twitched, and then reached up to cup Lister’s cheek. For a moment, they stared at each other, and then Lister pulled away.

 

Rimmer could have cried as Lister stood up. Had he done something wrong?

 

‘Fancy some champagne?’ said Lister, walking over to the high table in the corner before turning back to him. ‘I’ve just done me teeth, but whatever – we’re being held captive. Might as well enjoy ourselves, eh?’

 

Startled, Rimmer looked past Lister at the table, finally noticing the shiny ice bucket with a bottle of rather expensive champagne in it.

 

Champagne was a strange thing for Lister to have in his room, he thought. Given no option, Lister would probably drink most things, but such an expensive beverage was generally wasted on him. He was far more of a lager man – which Legion couldn’t possibly know – but then, he couldn’t _possibly_ know about Lister’s music tastes, or how Rimmer liked his bed sheets folded, could he? It seemed oddly out of character – like it had been placed there with intent.

 

Still, champagne between two usually meant sex was about to happen, didn’t it? Not that Rimmer had much personal experience to confirm that. He looked back at Lister’s gerbil face.

 

‘ – Yes, indeed,’ he said, trying to match the confidence in Lister’s voice.

 

He watched with slight trepidation as Lister grabbed two glasses (wine glasses – but the fact he hadn’t gone for two mugs filled Rimmer with hope that he too wanted this to be special) and began tearing the foil off the bottle. When Lister got the cork out, the champagne fizzed up; splashing a bit over the table, floor and two glasses, and Rimmer distantly thought he knew exactly how it felt. He was surprised to see Lister correctly pour the liquid down the sides of the glasses, and for about three seconds was annoyed by the thought that Kochanski might have taught him to do so. Then Lister returned, holding a glass out to him, which he took.

 

‘Thanks,’ he said, wondering if he was dreaming as Lister plonked back down beside him, nearly spilling his own drink.

 

‘No problem,’ said Lister, raising his glass. ‘Cheers!’

 

Rimmer did the same, clinking their glasses together before they both took a sip, or a swig, in Lister’s case.

 

It was quality stuff. Rimmer swallowed and licked his lips, giving a nod of approval at the glass, and then noticed Lister watching him – or his lips, to be more precise – with interest.

 

Oh. Might this _actually_ be about to happen?

 

Rimmer blinked, taking in Lister’s dark eyes and ridiculously sweet face. Shouldn’t someone be coming to interrupt them right about now? That was usually how things went for him. If anyone did, he thought he might seriously consider using his new hard-light strength to garrotte them – and from the looks of things, Lister might well support that decision.

 

‘It’s nice,’ he said quietly.

 

‘Yeah,’ said Lister. ‘It is.’

 

‘I was wondering – ’ said Rimmer, swallowing again as he disguised the shaking of his hands by gently adjusting the glass. ‘If you would mind – if I stayed with you tonight?’

 

Lister grinned.

 

‘Would I _mind_?’ he said in mock-thought, bringing his own glass to his lips and taking a sip.

 

‘Please – please don’t tease me,’ said Rimmer, looking down at the glass in his hands. ‘I can’t tell if – I’ll just leave if you don’t want me here.’

 

Smeg, he thought. He’d screwed it.

 

‘Hey,’ said Lister, tilting his head down until they made eye contact again. ‘I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here, would I?’

 

‘...I don’t know,’ said Rimmer honestly, sipping more champagne. He’d never been in this situation before; not ever. He wished he could talk to Nirvahna – she might not have been allowed to fall in love, but she’d know exactly what advice to give him. If it was her he was with, she’d probably be straddling him already, but this was very different. This was Lister. And he loved Rimmer – maybe in the same way Rimmer now knew he loved him. This was _important_.

 

‘Of _course_ I wouldn’t,’ said Lister, passing his glass into his left hand so he could put an arm around Rimmer again.

 

‘I’ve never been with a man before,’ said Rimmer.

 

‘Makes two of us... So, was this why you came here tonight?’

 

Rimmer blushed.

 

‘I didn’t mean to assume – ’ he began. ‘I just hoped... Yes?’

 

‘I’m glad you did. I’ve been going crazy, wondering if I was imagining this. Our relationship is so smegged up, isn’t it?’

 

Rimmer let out a small laugh.

 

‘It is,’ he said.

 

They finished their champagne off in a few quick gulps, Lister taking their glasses and getting to his feet to place them back on the table.

 

Rimmer watched him curiously. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Lister was suddenly looking _really_ nervous.

 

‘We don’t have to do anything,’ said Rimmer, ‘we could just get in – ’ He gestured behind them along the bed. ‘ – and see how we feel?’

 

‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ said Lister. ‘Do you mind if I take this off first?’ He tugged at the front of his long johns.

 

‘ – No,’ said Rimmer, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

 

‘You were right.’ Lister looked down at himself and scowled. ‘They _are_ disgusting.’

 

Seeing his expression, Rimmer felt a pang in his heart and he stood up.

 

‘It’s not your fault,’ he said gently, moving closer. ‘We’re stuck in deep space with bugger-all supplies, and you still look great... Maybe better out of _those_. I mean – ! Well – you _know_ what I mean.’

 

He cleared his throat, face heating as Lister smiled at him.

 

‘Do you want me to find something else to wear?’ he asked. ‘Before we – ?’ He nodded at the bed.

 

‘I don’t mind,’ said Rimmer. ‘Maybe – if I just – ’ He quickly undid the first three buttons of his own pyjama shirt, and then pulled it off over his head.

 

Lister bit his lip, and Rimmer wondered if he’d been too hasty.

 

‘Always forget how smegging good your body is,’ said Lister in awe, and then chuckled when he saw Rimmer’s expression. ‘Left _that_ bit out when we escaped the psi-moon, didn’t I?’

 

And with that, Lister wormed his arms out of the long johns’ sleeves, and then pulled the garment down his torso, legs, and off completely. Rimmer stared as, like some kind of naughty parlour trick, Lister went from fully covered to naked within about two seconds. Suddenly, he was able to see all that rather beautiful skin and big cock, and it was – very pleasantly – alarming. He watched Lister kick the underwear into a corner, giving him a good view of his full, perfect arse. Almost immediately, Rimmer’s mouth started watering, and his dick began to stiffen inside his pyjama bottoms.

 

‘You said you didn’t mind – and I forgot – you’ve seen me naked before, haven’t you?’ said Lister conversationally, although he didn’t make eye contact with him until the last few words.

 

Yes, he had, thought Rimmer. During the mind swap; once he’d been pleasantly surprised at Lister’s downstairs hygiene department, and found what Lister _kept_ there, he’d seen rather a lot of Lister’s body. But this would be different, seeing it from the outside... Had Lister always been so small? He’d always appeared larger than life with the way he stomped about, or sprawled across the furniture when he sat or lay down. But now, as Rimmer took a couple of steps towards him, their differences in height became abundantly clear, and when he put his arms around him, Lister was practically swamped. He’d also lost a lot of weight recently. Being stranded in space on a diet of vermin was obviously having a more pronounced effect than they’d realised. No wonder he always looked like he was swimming in that dreadful boiler suit.

 

He would have to feed the little gimboid up, thought Rimmer, as he bent to kiss him. He shuddered in pleasure as Lister’s body pressed against his. Well, so much for returning to his room. There was no way he was leaving now, not unless Lister told him to.

 

Lister exhaled shakily against his lips, before pressing back lightly, bringing his own arms around Rimmer’s torso. They stayed like that for a moment, their kiss soft and careful, until finally Rimmer pulled back.

 

‘Bed?’ he asked, running his fingers along one of Lister’s dreads.

 

Lister looked impressed as he nodded, and Rimmer nearly started telling him he wasn’t actually that confident; he was just worried about falling over. He decided against it, though, as they walked back to the bed, Lister climbing in beneath the sheets on one side. Rimmer followed him quickly after he’d stripped off his pyjama bottoms, aware of Lister’s gaze.

 

When he was in the bed, Lister slid right up beside Rimmer, turning on his side to face him. Rimmer did the same, putting an arm around him and pressing close. They kissed again; what started as another soft touch of lips soon becoming an exploration of tongues and teeth. They held each other tenderly, every now and then letting their hands wander to caress and grope. Now _this_ was a rather excellent snog, mused Rimmer, as he thumbed at Lister’s nipple, while Lister’s fingers combed through his hair. He could feel Lister’s erection pushing against his hip; the slight tickle of his pubic hair, and knew Lister had to be able to feel his, too. He thrust against him cautiously, and Lister gasped. Rimmer grunted, tightening his hold on Lister and rolling onto his back, pulling the other man on top of him without separating any part of their bodies. Enjoying the sensation, he knew that at some point they should probably experiment with this hard-light strength, but for now he just made a note to take extra care.

 

‘You look – good – in blue,’ mumbled Lister in between kisses.

 

Rimmer hummed into a deeper kiss, and then released him.

 

‘You mean you didn’t like the red?’ he asked, looking up at Lister’s slightly pink face before nuzzling at Lister’s neck, giving the silky skin little kisses and bites here and there.

 

‘The red’s fine,’ Lister sighed, closing his eyes. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you how great your arse looks in those new trousers.’ Rimmer sucked at the skin above Lister’s collarbone. ‘Mm – ! But – the blue really suits you.’

 

‘Hm, I’ll keep that in mind.’

 

Rimmer ran his hands down Lister’s back and cupped his backside, stroking firmly. Lister gave a choked off moan, and bucked against Rimmer. Startled by the reaction, Rimmer kissed Lister again as he squeezed his bottom harder, admiring its roundness as he thrust back, and listening eagerly as he began to pant. He could smell him; his fresh sweat and the pre-come smearing between their bellies. His balls ached relentlessly, and he could feel his own cock leaking; he was far too desperate and over stimulated to last much longer.

 

Smeg, he thought, maybe he should have rubbed one out before coming here? He wasn’t actually sure what was going to happen with this body. All he knew was that this friction was _wonderful_. Why hadn’t they done this before, again? Oh, right – death. Hologram.

 

Still clutching Lister’s arse in one hand – and revelling in it – Rimmer brought the other one up to his back and rolled them over so that he was now on top. He rocked hard against him, letting out a low growl as Lister hooked a leg around his waist and their cocks aligned.

 

‘Rimmer!’ gasped Lister, arching off the bed.

 

Rimmer thrust harder, closing his eyes tight and burying his face in Lister’s neck.

 

‘God, _yes_ ,’ he hissed against him. He could feel his orgasm building fast now; pooling in his balls.

 

Lister was clearly long gone, too – grabbing at Rimmer’s shoulders; his back and arse, like he couldn’t make up his mind or wanted it all or just needed _something_ to hold onto. With a small cry, he sank his teeth shallowly into the flesh of Rimmer’s bare shoulder, and Rimmer finally let go, white light bursting behind his eyelids.

 

When he came to, his heart was still hammering in his chest, and he could feel Lister’s doing the same beneath him. He rolled off him and pulled him into his arms, listening to their heavy breaths as they evened out.

 

After a few moments, Rimmer opened an eye and looked down at their two naked, entwined bodies, lifting the sheets a little for a better look. Lister had splattered both of them with his release, and Rimmer found himself wanting to holler in triumph. He did that – _he'd_ made Lister come.

 

It didn’t look as though Rimmer had ejaculated – he hadn’t when he was soft-light, but it had always felt as though he had. Not that he was disappointed; not at all – his body was buzzing with satisfaction.

 

Lister made a small noise against his chest, then.

 

‘What you doing?’ he asked sleepily.

 

‘Just – you know?’ murmured Rimmer. ‘You okay?’

 

‘I’m _more_ than okay. You?’

 

‘Great – I’m great.’

 

‘ _I’ll_ say. Sexy smeghead.’

 

Rimmer smiled, then lifted Lister off him and scooted to the side of the bed until he could reach his pyjama bottoms on the floor.

 

‘Where are you going?’ Lister whined.

 

‘I’m coming back.’

 

Rimmer moved back to the centre of the bed and pulled Lister back into his arms. With his free hand he wiped away all the stickiness between them, and finally threw the pyjamas back over the side of the bed.

 

‘Go to sleep,’ he said, and leant down to kiss Lister's forehead.

 

‘Mmn.’

 

Rimmer relaxed against the pillows, stroking Lister’s side gently. He knew that in the morning they’d have to try and find a way to escape this place; Legion was their captor, after all. But as he lay there, warm and solid with Lister snuggled against him; Rimmer found he couldn’t feel much bitterness for the man.

 

An odd, wet sound reached his ears, and he looked down to find Lister sucking his thumb. He chuckled.

 

‘I love you,’ he murmured.

 

‘Hah?’ said Lister.

 

‘I’ll tell you in the morning, Listy.’


End file.
